The Heart of a Lion
by Ebene Black
Summary: We are living in a forever fast-forwarding world. But to go forward and understand the future better, we must rewind and revisit the past. What really happened that night in the cave? What really happened that night in the cave of Regulus Arcturus Black's mind? Credit of picture goes to Dosei Evans.


The Heart of a Lion

 **Disclaimer** : I am not and I never could be our queen, JKR

 **Author's Note** : Many thanks to Dosei Evans. This would not have been possible without her. Please check out her WIP story, "Of Ice and Fire," simply because she is an amazing writer. It is not a Harry Potter story, but nevertheless it is amazing. (Now I'm done with my spiel. Please continue with the story.)

He was wrong. He never should have done this. He never should have fallen for his parents' idiotic pureblood ideas. Those ideas had lead him down a hole which was impossible to get out of. He had joined the Dark Lord because both of his parents strongly approved of the Dark Lord's blood-purity ideas and scorned his Gryffindor brother. He was the "good kid" of the family, and he enjoyed many more privileges than his rebel brother, but his time of being the orthodox was gone. As much as he hated to admit it, Sirius was right. Joining the Dark Lord was a _terrible_ idea. He had to fix this in any way that he could. He had to stop the Dark Lord from destroying the Wizarding World. He had to pay the price for his mistakes. He had to have the heart of a lion, just like his parents named him to be. There was only one option.

* * *

Pale with sweat and anticipation, Regulus determinedly opened the door to Kreacher's cupboard.

"Kreacher, take me to the cave where the Dark Lord held you."

"Master Regulus, that place is dark and terrible," Kreacher replied dutifully, shuddering in the remembrance of the basin, the potion, and the Inferi.

"Kreacher, this is an order. Take me to the place where you assisted the Dark Lord," Regulus firmly insisted. "There is no time to waste. Every moment you hesitate, the Dark Lord plans another murder and becomes more invincible."

Kreacher strained hard against the bonds of a house-elf to his revered Master Regulus and the bonds of mutual respect to no avail. "But Master Regulus...As you wish, my Lord," Kreacher replied regretfully, sensing Regulus' determination.

* * *

When they arrived in the cave, Regulus sacrificed his blood without hesitation. He knew what he had to do to stop the Dark Lord and he was willing to do it.

"Master Regulus, there a boat you has to get to cross to the basin where…" Kreacher trailed off and started muttering things about how Mistress Black wouldn't approve and the terrible images he saw when the Dark Lord ordered him to drink the potion. Kreacher's large, sad orbs stared one last time at Master Regulus with one last spark of hope, " You has other choice. If Master Regulus do this, Kreacher is alone and sad. Master is kind to Kreacher?"

Regulus's eyes softened with guilt, "I

cannot let the man who hurt you live if I can help it. Think of this as my parting gift."

Kreacher wasn't about to let his master walk to his death, and he could see a crack through his resolution. "Mistress Black still love you. You leave, she will be heartbreaked."

"Kreacher," Regulus sighed, stooping down so his eyes stared right has his companion's, firmly grasping Kreacher's shoulders as if it would help him understand, "I appreciate your efforts. But I want to choose the way I die, not let Voldemort do it for me. This will give me leverage over him."

Kreacher wanted to help Regulus in any way he could. He wanted to repay Regulus, so he asked, "Can Kreacher does anything help Master?"

In spite of the situation, Regulus gave Kreacher a weak smile and replied, "Yes, Kreacher. There is something you can do. When I drink this potion, it will do the same thing it did to you." Kreacher shuddered, but Regulus pushed on. "I want to make sure that I continue to drink the potion no matter what. I want you to remove that locket and replace it with this one." Regulus took a locket out of his cloak. It was a replica of the one the Dark Lord had. "If you can, Kreacher, I would like you to destroy the locket." On a final note he added, "Please never tell Mother or anyone else about this incident."

Kreacher owed his loyalty Master Regulus, so he determinedly vowed, "Kreacher will destroy locket. And Kreacher is not tell Mistress Black or anybody about this…"

Kreacher's whole body slumped, and he did something no house elf- however well treated- did to their masters-

He hugged Regulus.

* * *

Regulus concentrated on every word and instruction his faithful house elf gave him so his mind didn't have the choice to wonder about all the possibilities of what he might see after downing the drink of despair, or what would happen to Kreacher and his family if the Dark Lord-no, Voldemort- found out, or what would happen to Kreacher if he failed to rid himself of the locket-no. He shook his head. Kreacher would not fail his master. What was he saying anyways?

"Master. Master Regulus. Please puts your right hand up, master. House elf cannot completes this by himself."

With a numb mind, Regulus obliged, as if he was the house elf. He dimly heard chains rattling, as if a prisoner suddenly found hope again. Then, a boat surfaced. The boat was the prisoner, but it was not hopeful. No, not at all. It was leering at them, wobbling, daring them to get on.

Regulus had some misgivings of this boat. It was too rickety, it was too rotten, and most of all, it was way too small, and he doubted even if he alone could fit.

But he had to trust Kreacher. He was all Kreacher had left.

He was not going to let his faithful house elf down. He was going to accomplish what he came for. He was going to get the locket and then make sure that Kreacher got out of here alive with it. He knew that he wasn't going to get out here alive.

"No worry. This is magical boat; it can hold only one person. But no worry! I is not considered person!"

Regulus gingerly got in, with his faithful following close behind. The moment Kreacher's feet left the shore, the boat rocked violently as it started, almost throwing Regulus off the boat. "Master Regulus! No touch water! Water is cur..."

That moment, his house elf's voice drowned into the eerily motionless water. He was mesmerized. The lake was so... perfect. He leaned in, to examine it more closely. Not a single ripple.

He leaned in a bit more- he could see his own face, but it was near the bottom of the lake. Strange, how his face was so close to the water and his image was in the bottom, strange indeed that he _could_ see the bottom...

He leaned in a bit more. The boat rocked, but not enough to pour him into the lake. There he could se-

Bones.

He jumped back, barely stifling an ear-splitting scream. The boat rocked violently back and forth, and would have thrown Regulus off if not for his porcelain-white gripping the side with even paler knuckles.

"Inferi." He rasped, his eyes as wide as saucers. "I saw myself as an Inferi."

* * *

One step in the jagged island and Regulus wished he was back in the rickety boat. It was lit up, but no amount of light could have lifted the foreboding this island boasted.

Regulus conjured a silver goblet with the Black family crest identical to the ones that his mother kept at home. and dipped it into the basin. Before he raised it to his lips, he said, "Thank you," to Kreacher as his departing words.

Regulus raised the goblet to his lips and began to drink the potion. He shuddered in sync as the satanic liquid gushed down his throat. He felt his pride when Lord Voldemort called upon him to sacrifice his house elf. As he forced that memory away, he forced his right hand to reach over to the basin and scoop another handful of despair. He dimly recognized his house elf guiding his hand...he saw Sirius's retreating body, the one that would never come back because of his parents' foolish ideas, right after he reported his activities to their parents. He caused his brother's despair. "Sorry. Sorry. Forgive me." His body started shaking, but Kreacher did his duty and encouraged Regulus to gulp down another. And another. Finally, he started screaming, "NO!" and "Please don't hurt me. The Dark Lord made me do it." He then pleaded to Kreacher, "Make the pain stop. Please."

Kreacher pointedly ignored Regulus's pleas, and as he firmly grasped the goblet from Regulus's hand, he felt something wet. His brave, revered master was crying. Big fat droplets of salty tears were rolling gracefully down his ungodly face, outlining the contours of anguish. Despite all this, Kreacher had a promise to keep. He regretfully made Regulus finish the basin. Regulus eventually stopped screaming and went silent. His eyes turned glassy. His mouth was shaped like an o, like a fish on land. When he finally spoke, he was no longer pleading. His hoarse voice contained no hope, no emotion. "Water," he croaked. Kreacher hurriedly grabbed the goblet and dipped it into the water surrounding the island. Was his master himself again?

Then it happened. An Inferi's hand appeared. Then its head. Then, many other hands appeared. Slowly, but surely, the army of the dead rose again. Kreacher raced up to give the scoop of water to Regulus, to give him one last comfort before he met his fate. He switched the cursed locket with Regulus's fake one. He opened it one last time, one last time to glimpse his master's handwriting. One last time to touch what his master had touched, only short moments ago.

A champion Inferi had finally reached and pulled Regulus under. Sobs wracked Kreacher's body. He then remembered that he had to be strong for Regulus and he had to carry out Regulus' wishes: he would never tell anyone what happened and he would destroy the locket. He remembered what Regulus died for.

And what will he do?

Go to the ends of the Earth to fulfill Master's last wish.

What was he willing to give up?

Everything he had and ever will have.

For the great Master Regulus Arcturus Black.

His lifelong friend and companion.

Encouraged but alone.

Glorified yet marginalized.

Applauded, and shunned.

Included, but a traitor.

A selfless traitor.

A martyr-with the heart of a lion.

 **Author's Note** : Many thanks to you for reading. Please review. I would truly appreciate it. Constructive criticism is encouraged; I would really like to know how I did on this one because:

A prequel will be out in about a month called The Mind of a Snake.

I'm really excited, and I hope you are too.

A special favor for those who review: a sneak-peak


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